March 25, 2008

I had an experience last week that I hadn’t had in a while on Maui – I was the newcomer once again. It brought back a lot of memories of our first few months here on island, when we knew only a handful of people and passed each day in a whirl of introductions.

As I walked up the steps to my first community “talk story” session with two of our local Senators, I was nervous. It’s been a while since I went somewhere and didn’t know a soul. But as I walked up the steps to the dining hall at Pa‘ia School, I heard my name called out from inside, and I was greeted with a smile and a round of introductions. Turns out, I did know someone that night, and that one familiar friendly face introduced me to a handful of others, and then a few more familiar faces came through the door. I was home. Why had I been so worried?

My husband and I have been told on many occasions that if Maui is meant to be our home, we would just know. And I guess we did… or maybe we were just too stubborn to take the hint otherwise. Between termites canceling our first home purchase, tenants staying longer than expected in the home we did buy, delays in receiving our belongings and trouble finding full time employment, we definitely had some bumps in the road. And since that rather challenging beginning, there have been times along the way where we truly struggled – but never once did we question whether we should pack it all in and head back to the East Coast. Or maybe it was just that we couldn’t afford the tickets back.  And never once did our devotion to our marriage or our island home waiver, either, except for the time my husband backed up the driveway, veered off course and directly into the side of my parked car. Or maybe the time we tried to move into our next house and it smelled so terribly of wet dog that we had to move back out to rip up the carpets. Those times, maybe we had a few doubts. But we’ve been here for almost six years now, and while we are still relative newcomers, we are committed to our home and our friends and each other, and most importantly, committed to our family on Maui.

The people we met in our early days here on the island are friends to this day, people we see and keep in touch with – the very first and deepest roots we put down on the island.  With one warm welcome, one friendly face, a door was opened – even if just a crack. Slowly that crack widened, and on the other side was a wonderful crowd of friendly faces. Moms at the park became my best girlfriends, which led to birthday parties and membership in their book club and an amazing kinship with their other friends – women of all ages and backgrounds – relationships that I treasure. We exchanged childcare with neighbors so we could all afford to work and go to school. Sure, it involved careful juggling, and naps on sofas to get through our days and nights, but it also brought us all together in our determination to make it. My husband got his career going here through our friends and their referrals – referrals which remarkably kept coming even after he fell through my best girlfriend’s ceiling while re-wiring her house. And so it all came together for us. But being able to stay, to really make a life here, requires some pretty considerable commitment. You need to earn the trust necessary to create strong and lasting bonds.

Moving here, far from our blood relatives, with a small child and few acquaintances, my husband and I knew we needed to create our own family. We arrived with our hearts in our hands, and we reached out. Introduced ourselves, started conversations, accepted invitations and made invitations of our own, and slowly we began to make connections that have now spread from one end of this island to another. On the job, at the playground, in the grocery store – we recognized familiar faces, learned names, got into a routine. And as we settled in, we saw for ourselves how the island could choose to welcome you, or close its doors. So many people have come and gone in our short time here.

Arriving with preconcieved notions, then finding themselves frustrated by the lack of infrastructure or convenience, or Target, or just unable to make it work for them – some people would leave again. But because our family had roots, because we had joined the community and invested in our life here in every way, because we accepted the island, and the community, as a whole – good and not-sogood – we hung in there. This was our home. And we were staying. Plus, I am from some crazy and determined Yankee stock, and I had my mind set on living here. I was “in it to win it,” as my girlfriend Jeanna tells me.

It may have helped that never once on our pre-move visits to Hawaii did we stay in a condo or hotel zone. We couldn’t afford it, for starters. So we stayed in ohanas in neighborhoods all over the state, checking things out, talking to our hosts, reading the local papers, shopping in the grocery stores and at farmers markets. Less a vacation than a reconnaissance mission. We then headed East to pack up, realistic about life here. We knew what to expect, we knew the benefits and the challenges. Our eyes were wide open.

But our carefully made decision still requires some flexibility, some humility, and some patience. I have worked at a pretty crazy assortment of jobs, from bussing tables to babysitting, in order to pay the bills. We accepted that some things would be different, or behind the times, or just plain backward – and we just went with it. If there is one thing I have learned it is that, in this community, everything can come back and bite you in the rear. You must be honest, reliable, true to your word. Give as good as you get. Show compassion and respect, and you will be shown the same. This is true in life anywhere, in any community, but it is magnified on an island. The coconut wireless is not an illusion - word spreads FAST. And rumor spreads faster. I cannot tell you the number of times people have told me they thought I had moved back to the mainland. It happened just yesterday.  Because living here, if you don’t see someone for a few months, or even a few weeks, it’s a distinct possibility that they have moved on. In my case, if you don’t see me for a few weeks it means I am avoiding you. (I’m just kidding. Maybe.)

I wonder sometimes if we had moved to a different part of the island at the very beginning, met different people, done things differently… would we still be here? Or is our experience on Maui a combination of location and luck? Our original plan was to move to Kihei. How did we find ourselves in such a different location, clear on the other side of the island? Were we led here… or did it just happen that way? It’s impossible to say for sure, but I feel pretty confident that the reason we were so committed so early on was because of the community Upcountry. 

But for whatever reason, we found ourselves here, and we are staying. I try very hard to remember that living here is really a tremendous gift. I won’t take anything for granted, nor can I forget what it was like when we started out here. It is what keeps me grounded and respectful of the opportunities and the experiences, the beauty of the land, the people and the culture all around me.

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Vanessa Ghantous